


We Pass And Speak One Another

by Inner Voice (inner_v0ice)



Category: Mask of Apollo - Mary Renault
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-12-26
Updated: 2010-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-14 03:20:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/144786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inner_v0ice/pseuds/Inner%20Voice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another, / Only a look and a voice</i></p><p>Three sketches of Thettalos, by chance-met strangers on the road.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fawatson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fawatson/gifts).



1.

We met him on the road a day and a half before we reached Athens. My wife was having a sickly pregnancy and it pained me to watch her trudge along with her pinched and weary face, but we _had_ to reach Athens before my uncle's friend tired of waiting and decided to give the promised position in his workshop to someone else. We were both too exhausted to take notice of the other travelers on the road, so we were startled when a voice hailed us. It was a red-haired man on a riding-mule, with two companions and a cart trailing behind him.

"Perhaps you could walk with us a while, and your good wife could ride on our cart?" he repeated, and I gaped for a moment before nodding and thanking him profusely. I did not speak Attic very well, I knew, and so I stumbled over the words, but the man grinned and returned my courtesies in perfect Thessalian! I gaped at him once again, and he threw his head back in a laugh.

"In Athens they gave me the name Thettalos, and I have carried it ever since; I would be a fraud indeed if I could not speak the language!"

He was the first fellow-countryman we had spoken with in weeks, and I am afraid I became over-talkative in my delight at hearing a familiar tongue. The man--"Thettalos"; I felt odd thinking of that as a name--answered me cheerfully enough, and we passed the afternoon in talking; his companions seemed startled to see him chattering away in Thessalian with me, but he took no notice of their stares.

He had been born in Athens, as it turned out, and so had only spoken Thessalian at home with his family. He faltered now and then, or stopped in the middle of a sentence to grope for the word that he meant, but he shook off these stumbles with a smile and a wry look, and I liked him even more for this.

 

My wife and I stayed with his party all the next day until we reached Athens near sundown, and we parted ways with him just inside the city gate. "Athens has been good to me," were his parting words to us, "and I hope that it will be as good to your son, and to you."


	2. Chapter 2

2.

Thettalos was coming to the city! The famous actor Thettalos was coming _here!_ It was the only thing anyone had talked about for weeks, or at least anyone who was an actor or an actor's son. I was lucky enough to have been picked to be part of the boys' chorus for the play, and the days seemed agonizingly slow as I waited for the actors to arrive and rehearsals to start.

Finally they arrived and all the boys rushed to the theater to get a glimpse of Thettalos and the rest of his company. We loitered at a distance from the building, pretending to be occupied with other things, but secretly shooting glances at the actors as they unloaded their baggage cart. The one who seemed to be in charge was tall, with auburn hair--was this the famous actor himself? He paused for a moment in overseeing the unpacking and shot an amused glance at us, and my breath stopped for a moment as his eyes met mine. I blushed and ducked my head, and bolted for home as soon as he was definitely looking the other way, but I showed up extra early for rehearsals the next day.

Rehearsing the chorus songs and dances under Thettalos' critical gaze was a joy and a torture. My eyes seemed drawn to him every other moment, and the only thing that kept me from tripping over my feet or forgetting the lines was the thought of what my father would say if he learned that a son of his had been making a mess of rehearsals.

The play was a hit--how could it not be!--and afterwards the skene-room was loud with merriment and freely-flowing wine. We boys were supposed to leave almost immediately, before the celebration got too bawdy, but I slipped away from the others and sneaked back in. I waited in a corner until I saw that Thettalos was alone for a moment, then I gathered my courage and walked quickly up to him. When I got there I stopped suddenly, unable to think of what to do next, but he just smiled at my baffled silence. His eyes were a very clear gray.

"Your name is Kallias, is it not?" he asked, and I started with surprise.

"Y-yes," I managed to stammer. "Sir--that is, _Thettalos_ \--" I blushed at my own boldness and trailed off into silence.

"You are still quite young--I imagine that you've not yet had a lover, lovely Kallias?" he said, his smile quirking up at the edges.

I shook my head, my whole body flushing hot with embarrassment. He put his hand on my cheek and it was very gentle, and his eyes were very warm.

"We are leaving tomorrow, lovely Kallias, and you deserve better for your first love-affair than a one-night lover who will be up at dawn to shout at stubborn pack-mules." He kissed my other cheek, then my forehead, then drew his hand away. "I wish you joy in love, and a faithful lover...and perhaps to see you on the stage some day."

I nodded, my heart full with unnameable emotions, and slipped back out of the skene-room. I made my way home slowly through the spring night, dreaming of all the dreams he had wished for me.


End file.
